


all roads lead home

by ocelot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocelot/pseuds/ocelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin didn't say goodbye. He would wait for Eren on the other side of the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all roads lead home

In losing everything he found himself. Armin could have given up. There were times when he wanted to and once when he had. Eren had saved him. His guilt had eaten away at him and as pulled himself together enough to stand, his knees shook and beads of sweat and blood ran off his palms, he swore he wouldn’t be a burden to anyone again. He would be stronger. Armin lowered his hood and stared across the abyss. The clearest blue water ran beneath the overpass and evergreen trees framed the mountain side. It was the kind of place they had dreamed about as kids. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

Rivers flowed through him in place of blood and his veins were bare, shivering tree branches in winter and not even ice dared to grow on them. His skin was parchment and his brain was tired, wrinkled lines of old maps. He tasted copper on his lips. He felt a hand on his…Eren. His fingertips brushed against his bruised knuckles, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt anymore. His heart slammed against his chest like it wanted _out._ Out of this feeble, crippled body.   

He knew it was a dream. He found solitude in the softness of his dreams.

Armin knew he was dying. Darkness was enveloping him and all the warmth was fleeing from his body. In rivulets it ran like the blood that trickled down his face. He faded between the flickers of light that waited for him and the familiar voices of his friends. Eren was crying over his body.     

_Don’t be sad, Eren. I’m not worth it._

It was dark as if the sun had given up on them and fallen out the sky. His eyes stung from the blood that was dripping down his forehead. He had hit his head pretty badly. His ribs were cracked and he couldn’t feel his legs. He drew in a shaky breath. His hands were cold and trembling, but he couldn’t lift them. He could barely move his fingers. 

“Hey,” Eren murmured. “Armin? Can you hear me?”

His voice was so low he had to put his ear to his mouth. His hands covered his, trying to warm them up, but Armin felt no warmth emitting from Eren. He didn’t feel the weight of his head on his chest or his fingers squeezing his.

“I did good, yeah?” Armin looked at him like a wounded animal.  

“Mmhm, real good,” Eren nodded.

‘Idiot’ Eren thought angrily. ‘Why’d you have to play the damn hero?’ But he knew why. He loved him and everyone who loved him always ended up dead.   

“I love you.” Eren had always been too afraid to say it. “But you know that, don’t you?”  

Armin tried to smile. Somehow those words hurt most of all. Eren brushed back his blood encrusted hair and kissed the tears from his eyes. He trailed kisses down his cheeks, flecked with blood and dirt and tears. His lips brushed against his. He kissed him hard, whimpering into his mouth. Armin tried to wrap an arm around Eren, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even kiss him back after all this time of wanting to, of dreaming what it would be like. He could only lie there.   

Men like him only got to be heroes on their deathbeds.

“Please don’t go.” Eren sniveled. “I need you.”

“Eren,” Mikasa whispered. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Eren, we have to go.”

Mikasa didn’t look at Armin. She didn’t look at his wrecked body. At his blood streaked face.  She knew the sight would bring her to her knees. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get back up again. She wouldn’t be able to leave him. She would have died with him _for_ him if it hadn’t been for Eren and her silent promise to his mother. Mikasa would protect Eren even if it meant dying, even if it meant sacrificing her humanity. They had left her to die too. She couldn’t save anyone. She was still that weak little girl.         

“No,” Eren whispered over and over. He was in shock.  

Levi looked at her coldly.  

Mikasa swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting back the onslaught of tears. “Eren,” She said again. Her throat ached and her eyes were welling up. “Please, get up. I can’t lose you too.”

“No! Let me go.” Eren was shaking with rage.

“Don’t make me knock you out and carry you.” Levi threatened.   

“There’s still time. I can…I can still save him. I’ll kill them all, every last one…”

“That’s it!” Levi pulled Eren to his feet by the scruff of his jacket. Eren didn’t have any real fight in him, _just_ grief. “You do that and we’re all dead. Is that what you want?”

“Levi,” Mikasa warned.   

“We’re going. Now,” He said.  

“Just…let me say goodbye.”  

“Make it fast.” Levi ordered.

Her lips curled to snarl back a retort, but she stopped herself. He wasn’t worth it. 

Levi hated goodbyes – the broken words, the hiccupped sobs, the maddening delusions that there was still hope.   

“I want you to have this.” Mikasa uncoiled her scarf and laid it across his chest. Still she didn’t look at him. She picked a point on the horizon and stared at it instead of him. It kept her resolute. If she could separate herself from this horror and deceive herself into thinking this wasn’t real, this was happening to someone else then she could go on.      

“Look after Eren for me.” She heard him say.  

“I will.” Mikasa nodded.

He could be brave, too. And so, so stupid…this was wrong. All wrong. She should have been in his place, but death offered too much peace and there was no peace waiting for her.     

Only idiots got themselves killed, only heroes. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed tightly. Had his hands always been this small?

Levi gripped her shoulder. “We have to go.”

“I’m sorry.” Those words didn’t sound right in his mouth, but she guessed even someone as familiar with tragedy and as hardened by war as him was no stranger to a fleeting kindness.

He offered her his hand, but she didn’t take it. She stood on her own. If they were going to stand together in this war he had to see her as his equal.    


End file.
